


Sharpie

by stele3



Category: Social Network (2010)
Genre: Body Writing, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-23
Updated: 2013-02-23
Packaged: 2017-12-03 08:57:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/696538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stele3/pseuds/stele3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mark has a Very Important thought that simply cannot wait until later. So he writes it on Eduardo.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sharpie

"Can you--can you just hold still," Mark pants.  
  
"Are you _serious_ ," Eduardo chokes, not even bothering to inflect. It's not really a question anyway. Of course Mark is serious. He's already writing on Eduardo's shoulder, the Sharpie's tip cold and strange against his overheated skin.   
  
Eduardo groans and shifts, trying to find a position that doesn't make his thighs burn. The shitty dorm bed gives too much and he almost falls sideways, sliding a little ways out of Mark, who makes a strangled, angry noise. Whether at the loss of Eduardo's dick or the way his equation or personal note or what the fuck ever he's writing has gone crooked, Eduardo doesn't know. He'd like it to be the former. It's probably the latter.  
  
Gritting his teeth, he leans forward and plants both his hands on either side of Mark's narrow shoulders, pushing back into him hard. Whatever sarcastic remark Mark had been about to make dies on his lips and his eyes roll shut.   
  
So that's a little gratifying.   
  
"Well?" Eduardo says. His hips twitch involuntarily, beyond his control, but other than that he's completely still.   
  
Mark takes a deep breath, visibly pulling his thoughts together, and resumes writing. Eduardo doesn't try to read the note. He watches Mark's face, giving his head a quick shake when sweat stings his eyes. Mark's eyes are almost all pupil, his hair's sticking to his forehead, and his left heel keeps rhythmically digging into the back of Eduardo's thigh, urging him on despite Mark's own instructions. Yet for the moment, Eduardo doesn't doubt that all his attention is focused on whatever brilliant idea he's trying to capture on Eduardo's skin.  
  
Sometimes Eduardo thinks that Mark is locked in a life-and-death battle with his own brain. Other times, he feels like _he_ is. Now is definitely one of those times.  
  
By the time Mark reaches his wrist, Eduardo's whole arm is shaking. His back and his thighs are, too. "Mark," he says between his teeth.   
  
"Okay, I'm done," Mark says, still scribbling. "Okay, okay. Okay, _okay_ , oh _fuck_!"


End file.
